


Adventures in Space

by Xela



Category: Farscape
Genre: Other, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-21
Updated: 2012-03-21
Packaged: 2017-11-02 07:19:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/366405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xela/pseuds/Xela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well.  It's Chrichton and some Tentacles.  What's not to love?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adventures in Space

This had never been in any of the movies. Monsters had always been slash-and-burn types. They were green and slimy, inhuman with green stripes or disgustingly translucent skin. And if they had tentacles, it was to enhance and emphasize the _otherness_. It was not...

...this.

Smooth tendrils curled around his arms and legs, held him immobile. They didn't feel overly aggressive or threatening but...they were _tentacles._

John's shirt went the way of the condor, pulled from his body by the seams. A silvery strand hovered over his bare chest, thin and flexible. It dragged feather-light across his chest, a barely-discernible touch that made John's body tighten in response. The appendage seemed to be exploring him, touching here and there, cataloguing responses. It tickled his ribs and paused when he laughed. Then did it again. John tried to twist away, giggling reflexively.

Then it found his nipple, which tightened at the stimulation. This was far more fascinating than his tickle-response. Another tentacle, this one tinged blue, appeared and caressed his other nipple. He scowled at the tight nub.

_Tentacles are not sexy,_ he told his body sternly, but something dragged across his back and it stole his breath. When he'd remembered how to breath, his pants were gone. And his boxers. Which left him dressed in dog tags and alien tentacles. _Son of a—!_

They crawled up his legs, alternating between soft scrapes and firm caresses. It was driving him insane. Some of the 'touches' were nothing more than the ruffling of his leg hair, impressions of touch skittering down his nerves.

“Jeesh—” One of the tentacles snuck between his balls, caressed and rolled them. His muttered exclamation brought a momentary lull before another tendril joined the second and his cock stood up to salute. _Christ,_ that felt good.

There were more tentacles, more touching. John whimpered and jerked, trying to find friction and relief somewhere. He threw his head back and gasped, eyes screwed shut. He needed more. So much more.

His air was abruptly cut off as a tendril slipped into his mouth, exploring teeth and tongue and wet heat. Before he could start panicking the appendage was removed. He blinked wet eyes and something whisked his unshed tears away in apology.

“Let's not do that again,” John mumbled, muscles starting to tremble under the strain. He got a sense of agreement from...whatever this was. And then a warm tentacle wrapped around his cock and started jerking him off, which John was willing to take as an apology. At the very least, it felt fantastic. The tendrils varied their speed, experimenting on him to find the best ways to make him shudder and moan. 

It distracted him from the tentacles that caressed his ears and gently touched his nose, careful not to constrict his breathing or go too far. Which should have clued him in to their next destination, but he was concentrating on the vibrating appendages wrapped around his cock and balls. Though that didn't stop his eyes from flying open and his body tensing when one of the tentacles tickled... _there._

“Um, can we...talk about this?” John asked the room. “Just for a sec- _econd!”_

John was exceedingly grateful for the tentacles wrapped around his legs and arms, because the moment the inquisitive little vibrating tendril that was exploring the _inside of his ass_ found his prostate and John's world went white. His body bowed up, muscles spasming with release, hot fluid splattering against his stomach. The pleasure seemed to go on and on until it was bordering on overload, turning painful.

“S-stop!” he gasped, the little tentacles still fondling his cock sending sharp jags of pleasure-pain up his spine. He twitched with every touch, aftershocks racing through him. He whined and gasped and shuddered but they kept touching, kept probing, everywhere—his nipples, his cock, his ass. His skin was overly sensitized so that every brush, no matter how light, felt like too much.

And he came again, a dry shudder of release through already relaxed muscles, too much too soon too intense.

They laid him down on the ground, gently. Carefully. The floor warmed beneath him and large tendrils wrapped around him, cocooning him while he was so far out of himself. It took what felt like hours to come back to himself. Even then his head felt fuzzy and sluggish, and if he had been asked a question, his words would have been seriously suspect. So he decided to ride the endorphin high, enjoy the satiated feeling in his limbs.

The light was most unwelcome.

“Crichton!” John opened his eyes and smiled goofily up at D'Argo.

“Dude.” His eyes rolled over to Aeryn. “Dudette. You have GOT to try these things!”

D'Argo rolled his eyes. “Frellin' human.”


End file.
